Tides of Emerald Runes
by Crystallised-Hearts
Summary: Death. That was what those symbols meant. The symbols carved into my flesh like a stone tablet. The language of the carvings was lost; forgotten, but the power behind them, the power that controlled anyone who dared to look upon it, could never be. The Eye of Magnus. The name echoed through my mind and struck fear into my heart. What had I done? Comments appreciated.
1. Frost

Tides of Emerald Runes

~~o~~

Death. That was what those symbols meant. The symbols carved into my flesh like a stone tablet. The language of the carvings was lost; forgotten, but the power behind them, the power that controlled anyone who dared to look upon it, could never be.

Like all power, people wished to contain it. And like any living thing, it would find a way to escape. The Ancient Nords were the first to try, even to hide it from the fate of the Falmer. Then, a few eras later, the Psijic Monks. But even they were but another obstacle to eliminate. The power would wait, like it did with the Nords. It would wait until the Psijics showed weakness and then... I wasn't sure. However, I knew that if I stayed in the state I was in, trapped and under its control, that I would eventually find out.

So much mystery. So many secrets laid inside it, and yet each time it terrified and mesmerised me. I just wanted the connection to end. I wanted to be free. Though, slowly I began to realise the truth.

There was no escape. I was a puppet, and the power was my master.

~~o~~

Chapter I: Frost

I was rocked from side to side as my back lay against the wooden wall of the carriage. I listened to the shatter of hooves against broken ice, the drowned out cries of the carriage driver and the swift slash of his whip. The night dawned on my master and I much faster than either of us had expected and yet our bodies were so tired from the past few day's journey that we didn't mind the coldness that seeped through our cloaks or the occassional snowflake that bit our already frozen skin.

The low howl of the wind reminded me of a wolf crying to the moons. It was only when the carriage jerked to one side that my eyes cracked open.

It was dark out, so dark that it was difficult to make out the form that lay next to me, or the horse that pulled the carriage along the road.

Gently, I nudged the form with gloved hands. He didn't move. A quiet snore passed his cracked lips and he shuffled further away from me. Irritated, I pulled his hood down.

"W-what?" my master almost yelled as he struggled to pull his hood past his ears. "What was that for?"

"We're almost there you old mer," I said with a smirk.

"Almost?" he asked in a high, accusing tone. "If we are not there yet then what did you wake me up for, girl?"

I frowned and went for his hood again.

"Alright, alright that is enough," he grumbled and swatted my arm away. "You cannot blame me for trying to rest. It has been a long journey, and I don't know how much longer I can take of this."

A faint blue glow formed around my hand and gave us the little light we needed to see. "We've rested long enough. We're bound to be there soon."

The harshness of the last few days was apparent in his frown, the wrinkles as deep as the grooves and lines on the bark of a hundred year old oak. "Curse this weather to Oblivion. You can't tell whether it is dusk or dawn. The snow seems to never let. How these Nords live in such a land is beyond me."

I smiled. "Now that is something we can both agree on."

The carriage passed many dark shadows. Some were tall enough to rival a few of the mountains we had come across in this strange, barren land. Clouds clung together as swiftly as moths were drawn to a flame and it wasn't long before neither the auroras of the sky, nor the once bright stars could be seen.

Tiny flickers of red and amber were apparent further ahead, like fireflies dancing between trees. It was only when the colours grew stronger and human-like figures came into view that I realised that we were nearly there.

My master's hand cupped his forehead. "Is that it? Is that what we have travelled all this way for?"

I let out a heavy sigh. It seemed that we did.

The town was small, only with a couple of poorly crafted houses on each side of us. One of the buildings lay in ruin with no roof nor walls to keep the cold out. The tavern's sign hung by a thread and banged loudly against the unhinged door.

Men clad in chainmail and leather boots turned their attention to the carriage. Even though they wore helmets, I could practically feel their suspicion, especially when the carriage turned and headed to a place they feared.

Slowly, the carriage grinded to a halt.

As Master Eloroth paid the carriage driver, I allowed my eyes to wander over the enormity of the bridge before us and where it led to. Snow laid a palm of white against the charcoal stone of the archway, along with the floor and walls. The town wasn't as impressive, but if the bridge was something to behold, I had to wonder what the College was like.

"Come on Taarie. Let us go before we freeze," my master said.

I nodded and followed him towards the bridge.

Near the entrance was a woman. She was an Altmer like myself, though she looked older. She raised her head and folded her arms across her chest.

"I see the College has some new visitors," she said. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

I bowed my head. "I believe your Archmage is expecting us? I am Taarie, and this is my former master Eloroth. We sent word to you from Cyrodiil about our visit."

The woman's eyes widened slightly and she gave a small smile. "So you have. Forgive me. Strict procedures have been put here to stop some of the local Nords from gaining access to the College. I am Faralda. Please, follow me."

"Are the local Nords a problem around here?" my master asked.

Faralda shook her head. "No, not really. But it doesn't hurt to be careful."

"That it doesn't."

"So, you came all the way from the Arcane University in Cyrodiil?" she asked.

I shook my head. "We originally came from the Mages Guild in the Summerset Isle, but we disagreed with some of their teachings."

"I see."

"I tried to learn several spells in Cyrodiil but the masters there taught more about politics than magic," I continued.

"How such imperials managed to learn magic at all is beyond me," Master Eloroth grumbled. He lightly pulled the tip of his beard. "Most of the spells I taught there were more advanced than anything those mages could come up with. And they had the audacity to criticise my teaching methods."

My hand landed on the bridge of my nose. "Master, you almost set two of the apprentices alight."

"Serves them right if you ask me," he retorted. "They couldn't even use a ward correctly. How was I supposed to teach them magic if they couldn't even defend themselves?"

"You were supposed to teach them Conjuration, not destruction magic."

"Conjuration?" he laughed. "Nonsense. Those apprentices needed to learn the basics before they could even read about Conjuration, let alone practise it."

_Magnus preserve me but was that old mer annoying sometimes, _I thought. _Perhaps I should have come to Skyrim alone and left him back in Cyrodiil._

"Well I'm sure your teachings will prove useful to the College," Faralda smiled.

As we wandered through the iron gate, I couldn't help but stare at the statue within the College's grounds in surprise. It seemed to resemble a mage. Perhaps even Magnus himself.

Faralda stopped by the entrance and gestured to the benches by the living quarters. "Please, wait here while I go and find the Archmage."

I nodded. Once she disappeared around the corner, I dropped my satchel and leaned back against the wall. "This place is quite impressive, don't you think master?"

Master Eloroth pursed his lips. "It is to an extent. Let us hope that this is as promising as we were encouraged to believe."

"I hear the Archmage is relatively new, you know," I said. "I wonder why."

"Who knows?" he replied. "Maybe he fell from that bridge we just crossed. One misplaced step and a person may end up in the sea."

I glanced over my shoulder and shrugged. "That just makes this place more interesting."

"Interesting?" he chuckled. "I suppose it does."

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Faralda, accompanied by an old human, at least the age of sixty years.

"Taarie, Eloroth, I am afraid the Archmage is away at the moment," she said. "This is Tolfdir. He is the Master Wizard here."

Master Eloroth bowed his head. "A pleasure to meet you, Tolfdir."

The old man's almost timid smile widened at the gesture. "As it is to meet you, Eloroth." He nodded to me, to which I did the same in return. "Now if my memory is correct, you are here to apply as one of the teachers here, yes?"

Master Eloroth grinned. "That I am."

"Ah, excellent. And you must be here as a new apprentice," he said to me.

"Yes, I am," I replied.

"Well, we are glad to have you. Faralda, be a dear and show our new student to her quarters, would you? Eloroth come with me. We have much to discuss," Tofdir said before I was lead towards the living quarters.

Inside, I was more than happy to remove my gloves and pull my hood down. The warmth was a welcomed change.

"This is the Hall of Attainment, better known as the apprentice quarters," Faralda said.

She guided me to one of the spare rooms. "You will be staying here," she informed. "Everything in this room now belongs to you. You will be given a set of scrolls for study during your stay here, but for now if you need any research material please find Urag in the Arcanaeum. There are other apprentices sharing this hall as well as you, and you shall meet them shortly."

I placed my satchel on the bed and grazed my fingers along the wooden chest beside it. With a glance back, I frowned. "There's no door."

Faralda hesitated. "Yes, I'm afraid not. It's something that we haven't needed to put in place."

My fingers twitched. "I see."

A corner of her lips twitched upward slightly. "I hope you enjoy your stay here. Your lesson will be soon. There are spare robes and boots inside your wardrobe. While not mandatory, they may feel better than your current clothes."

Once she made sure everything was in order, she handed over a piece of parchment that held the layout of the College and headed out of the Hall of Attainment.

After a quick look around my room, I laid back against the edge of my bed and closed my eyes.

_The College of Winterhold,_ I thought. _No doors? Skyrim really was a strange place._


	2. Lectures

Chapter II: Lectures

Chatter echoed throughout the Hall of the Elements. It reminded me of my first visit to the Mages Guild in the Summerset Isle. The excitement of the prospect of learning something that came so naturally to the elders and the respect that it was given could never be forgotten.

Apprentices gathered around the rear of the hall with scrolls by their sides. Satchels dropped by the outer benches and the students wandered over to the Master Wizard, Tolfdir, and the new sorcerer of the college, Master Eloroth.

I sat in the shadows with a tome in one hand and a quill in the other. I was a fare distance away, far enough to be able to watch while also having no unnecessary distractions. I needed quiet for my study, but I also needed to be sure that my master's lecture was successful. He had too many disappointments for this lecture to end the same way.

Tolfdir stood closer to the students than he did and, with a sense of honour and delight, gestured to him an outstretched arm.

"Now students, this is Master Eloroth and he will be one of your tutors for the time being, " Tolfdir announced. " In this particular lesson, you will be learning about Alteration magic. Eloroth, if you would like to carry on?"

His arms unfolded from under his coal robes. In a slow stride he inched closer to them. Each step demanded respect and intent ears. "I am pleased to be here. However, under no circumstance will there be any disruption in this session. Neither will there be any fooling around. Is that understood?"

The apprentices glanced between each other, obviously not expecting that sort of greeting, and slowly nodded.

"Good," he smiled. The routine he had with students was something that never truly worked between he and I, though that might have been due to the fact that we had known each other for many years. "Now, how much do you know of Alteration magic as it is?"

At first, neither of the apprentices answered. However, a Dunmer woman, slightly shorter than the other men in height, raised her hand. "We've mainly focused on Restoration and Destruction magic. We've not practiced much on Alteration."

"Ah, Brelyna, is it? Well, it is a good thing I came when I did," Master Eloroth chuckled and allowed his clasped hand to shine. His fist opened and energy, shaped as an emerald diamond, hovered and twirled in the air. "Alteration is one of the simpler schools of magic, but it demands focus and patients. Perhaps we should begin with a demonstration?"

Dread overcame my being as his squinted gaze drifted around the hall to abruptly halt in my direction. I clutched my tome.

"Taarie? Would you mind giving us a hand?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow. _Yes, I do._

At first I did not move, but as his expression darkened and his head rose so stubbornly high in the air, I realised that I didn't have a choice in the matter. He would wait there, if he could, for the entire day, without as much as a blink in another direction.

As I left my seat, my gaze flickered to the other apprentices. The Khajiit was a surprise. His people were not well known for their magical ability or heritage. From what I had heard, they were better suited to stealth and occasionally thievery. The Nord wasn't as surprising, but he did look out of place. Large and broad shouldered. He didn't look like the sort that would belong within the college.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked with my voice low.

Master Eloroth ignored my tone and took a step back. "I want you to cast Ebonyflesh upon yourself."

I frowned. "Isn't that a little advanced for these apprentices?"

"Of course it is, but showing them will help them strive to achieve that level of magic. Now, enough talk," he said and refolded his arms.

The hall fell silent. Everyone stared in both curiosity and interest.

I flexed my hand and felt the fingers stick to my palm as the magic overcame me. Flashes of white swept over my shoulders, chest and knees. Each inch of skin pricked as the lustre bonded and strengthened my body.

"Quite impressive," the Khajiit muttered. His feline lips pursed questionably and his jagged fang caught his lower lip. "Of course, J'zargo can learn such a spell without much effort. Can the Nord Onmund do so?"

The Nord frowned. "I don't think we should be talking. We could get into serious trouble with Master Eloroth."

J'zargo sneered and looked back.

"Much faster next time, Taarie. Your movements were slow. Try to quicken your pace when casting spells," my master advised.

I rolled my eyes at him; an action that I had done so many times since we first met, and returned to my position by the bench.

"Now, there are a number of tomes beside me. Each has the knowledge on how to cast an ironflesh spell. Flip through it and then return to me once you are done," Master Eloroth said before he was guided, by Tolfdir, to another end of the hall.

I soon returned to my tome. My fingers delicately traced every word across each page and even to the sketches outlined at the edges.

Ice cloak. That was what the tome taught.

I had studied the use and effects of it, but for some reason I could never quite get the power when casting correct. It was either too powerful and froze everything, both stone and people a like around me, or wasn't powerful enough and faded as soon as it was cast.

_Maybe if I changed the position of my hands, or perhaps my focus on the actual spell rather than the outcome of it...?_

"J'zargo believes the elf must be quite skilled in magic to have cast such a spell."

I looked up, only to be met by the Khajiit apprentice, who kept his claws pressed firmly against his spell book.

"You do?" I asked.

The Khajiit landed in the unoccupied space next to me. "You are new here, yes?"

"Yes?"

"Good. That does mean that J'zargo has more competition, but no matter," he muttered, more to himself than to me. He flipped through the pages of his book, but his attention was not on it for long. "J'zargo will come out the best in the end."

I raised an eyebrow. "You seem sure of that."

"Oh, but I am. As J'zargo once said, there is skill in magic and there is a strong will. J'zargo will become successful."

"After you leave the college, you mean?"

His grin faded. "Well, yes, but J'zargo will not be here forever. His talents will be known throughout Skyrim, and perhaps beyond. Of this there is no doubt."

"Of course it will," I said sarcastically and tapped the ink pot with the end of my quill.

"So, what brings one such as you to the college?" J'zargo asked.

The quill jerked to one side. The ink stained and left a large mark across the page. Damn it.

"Magic," I replied. "Learning. Oh, and particularly the snow. It's not common where I come from."

"J'zargo knows that feeling well. He could not get used to the cold at first, but now it no longer bothers him."

I nodded in understanding.

"J'zargo what are you doing over here? We need to practice-" a Nord called. I recognised him as another apprentice. However, he stopped when he saw me. "Oh, um, you're Taarie, aren't you?"

I inclined my head. "And you are Onmund?"

"Oh, yes, I am," the Nord replied. His hand swiftly brushed the back of his hooded neck.

I smiled.

"So, you're new here, huh?"

"J'zargo has already asked that question, Onmund," the Khajiit answered.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, now would the Nord be so kind to not bother J'zargo? He has much study to be done."

"Sure, I can see that," Onmund retorted.

Slowly, I looked over the Nord's shoulder, and saw Brelyna glaring into his back. A thought crossed my mind and I closed my tome with a heavy snap.

"Your friend doesn't look too pleased about you both being here," I said." You are supposed to be learning your spell, aren't you?"

Both apprentices exchanged looks. After a moment, J'zargo reluctantly stood from his seat and wandered back over to her. After a short nod, the Nord did the same.

_What a strange group. _

~~o~~

After an hour of studying and practice, the students returned to the center of the hall with both tired and determined looks.

Master Eloroth seemed pleased, but whether the apprentices had actually learned how to cast the spell without lingering effects was yet to be seen. From what I had observed, I had my doubts.

"I do hope you have spent your time wisely," Master Eloroth said. With a partly outstretched hand, he motioned for J'zargo to come forward.

"Show me what you have learned," he demanded.

I wasn't surprised when J'zargo willingly stood in the center of the hall. The anticipation was evident in his eager stance.

As J'zargo casted ironflesh upon himself, his body flashed in a layer of light.

"Good. Good," my master said, but then flame enveloped his hand and he took a step back. "Now, stay perfectly still. It is time to see if your spell truly works."

The Khajiit's pride all but vanished instantly and his face, hidden under his fur, paled.

"Maybe I or Tolfdir could do this spell, master?" I interrupted.

With a raised eyebrow, Master Eloroth set his lips in a fine line. "Nonsense. I am perfectly capable of casting such a spell."

That's not what I was afraid of.

As the spell charged, I looked away. It was going to be like the situation in Cyrodiil all over again.

Warm air hit my face as a loud thunder bounced off the walls and into sensitive ears. A dust cloud formed around both Master Eloroth and J'zargo. The cloud soon faded. The Khajiit, with both claws up as a shield, looked surprisingly unharmed.

"Excellent," my master grinned. "I told you it was going to be alright."

"J'zargo knew his spell would work. There was no doubt in his mind," the Khajiit smirked after a quick breath.

However, the apprentices and tutors weren't where I sat and didn't see J'zargo from my angle. If they had, then they would have seen the fine trail of smoke that followed the Khajiit's tail.

On instinct, I cast a cloud of ice that cloaked the burn. The flame was put out, but the tip of his tail had frozen.

J'zargo stopped and slowly turned to the tail on the ground. His hiss of pain was one that startled everyone.

"Hmm. It seems the spell wasn't cast as perfectly as I thought," Master Eloroth mumbled. As he had always been, his focus was on what went wrong rather than the actual consequence.

"So, it is J'zargo's fault that his tail was set on fire like a torch?" the Khajiit growled. His claws delicately cradled the end of his tail. Specks of ice clung to the burnt fur.

"Mistakes are expected when learning new spells. Perhaps I should have chosen something simpler..."

"Simpler?" the Khajiit muttered back angrily.

Master Eloroth, however, ignored him. He was too caught up in his own thoughts to do otherwise. "Anyway, it is not a bad first attempt. Not what I had hoped for but there is time for improvement."

_Oh, master. Sometimes you are so stubborn._

I sighed and returned to my study.

Hesitant, the other two apprentices managed to cast their shield spells without failure and were left relatively unscathed. Neither tries were that traumatic and Master Eloroth's expectations of his students was probably a little too high, but the smug, almost cocky grin he had when the session ended was something that spoke of his pride in them, and his teaching capabilities. Perhaps it was also pride in finally having found a place where his teachings would be respected, though they did not always go to plan.

"Well, I did certainly did not expect that," Tolfdir chuckled once the lecture had come to an end. "Though, I must say it was quite entertaining."

Tolfdir looked towards the doorway and nodded to both Master Eloroth and myself. As he left, I drew closer to my former master and nudged his shoulder.

"You did well," I muttered. "It even got a little exciting near the end."

He didn't reply.

I looked up.

He drew his head back and marveled the sight of the Hall of the Elements, almost as if he couldn't believe he was there. The tension from the lecture eased from his muscles and it was one of the rare occasions were I had actually got to see him in a peaceful state.

His yellow eyes crinkled as he spoke. His voice was but a whisper. "I... I believe I have finally found a place that I am content to be in."

"Who would have thought? We're so far away from home and yet it is here that we feel the closest to it."

"Hah, that it is. I do believe I will look forward to teaching here for the next few years."

"I know, master," I smiled and nudged his shoulder once more. "Come, I feel vanished. There has to be some food somewhere."

"What a disappointment it would be if there was none, wouldn't you agree?" he said as we leisurely wandered out of the hall. "You know, if you need any more guidance in your further lectures-"

"I will happily leave you out of it," I smirked.

He chuckled and placed his hand on my lower back. "A very wise decision."


	3. Light and Fond Memories

Chapter III: Light and Fond Memories

Light snores drifted through the walls of my sleeping chambers. With a groan, I rolled from one side to another. Only, the sound did not halt in its torment. Instead, it seemed to get worse as time pressed on. The edges of the pillow folded around the base of my ears, but even that didn't help.

_How did people sleep with so much snoring? In fact, how did people sleep at all? _I thought and shuffled to lie on my back.

There was a chill in the air ever since the candles had burned out. It was enough to get me to breath into my hands, but that only made them clammy with little warmth to make a difference.

Mutters soon added to the snores, though those had a slight hiss to them. It must have been J'zargo.

How the college and its apprentices could live in chambers without doors was beyond me. Even the taverns Master Eloroth and I stayed in during the long nights were quieter. The drunken bards and town's folk were at least courteous enough to lower their voices after a certain hour.

I slowly smiled. Sometimes I wished to be back there, during those times. To not have the pressures of life or the politics of mages in one's mind. Though most Altmer would have hated, no detested the very idea of the human innkeepers and the boisterous activity that was promised with tankards of ale and mercenaries, it was almost always entertaining to watch.

As my eyes began to flutter, a flash of light, strong, bright and almost blinding in a way, struck my chamber. It was there for the briefest of moments, but was enough to get me to jump back in surprise. Through parted hands, I looked around the room, only to find that the light was gone.

Strange.

I had to wonder if someone had woken up. Though, that didn't explain the door. From the corner of my bed I was able to make out the parted gap that was large enough to see the specked flakes of the outside. Rusty hinges screeched like nails against stone. My blanket scrunched beneath my fists until the sound abruptly ended.

A thought to yell out who was there struck my mind, but that probably would have made the situation worse. As much as my instincts protested, perhaps it was better to search for the cause on my own.

With my robes tightened around my chest and boots wrapped around my feet, I snuck out of the mage's quarters, careful not to disturb the sleeping residents.

Gloved hands shook as the cold, winter night hit me with force. It was dark out and the moons were hidden under grey clouds. It must have been at least midnight, perhaps an hour or so longer.

Howling gales forced me to seek refuge away from the college grounds. My form stuck to the shadows in search of another way inside. There was no going back. The weather made sure of that by continually pressing my robes forward.

I looked up. There was a wooden hatch left open. A ladder stretched down into some sort of catacomb or cellar. As the winds picked up, my instinct took over and I gripped each edge of the ladder. Every step of mine on the way down was fainter than the last. The slight tremor and occasional creek of the ladder caused such an action.

Once my feet touched the ground, my grip on the ladder loosened. A long, dark passage stretched out ahead. Though torches were lit on the walls, darkness clung to the corners. Moisture seeped through cracks and left pools of water beneath my feet.

The same thoughts kept recurring through my mind as I crept down the passage. After a moment, I was able to put words to them...

_What was I doing? What existed down there that I was unaware of? Would I be okay?_

After a glance back, my thoughts came to a swift end. The tunnel looked as if it ended where I began. A wall broke off my only known escape.

That couldn't have been possible. The ladder was right there. I knew it.

My fingers traced the outline of the stone, only to later cling to it in the hope that I could pull it free. It did not move. The wall was solid. Unmovable. That wasn't possible.

_"Taarie," _whispered a voice. It was soft, almost comforting.

I looked over my shoulder.

The light. It was there. In the distance. Faint but traceable.

_"Taarie," _it said again in a fainter tone. Its shine began to fade. It must have moved.

As a thief can be drawn in by only the clink of a golden coin, I was drawn in by the shadow of a strange orb that's glow cast bright figures and symbols across walls, only to almost disappear when at arm's reach. The small trace of crystal embers and the sense of power was the only trail I had to follow. And yet, naively, that is what I did. No thought went into the consequence. Any willpower all but faded at the sight and it was as if my mind was already set. I could not go back, even if I wished to.

The passages I walked through became a blur. None of it mattered. Even as I descended down what I knew where stairs and through doors that were plastered in dried red, I felt neither concern nor worry.

The light disappeared behind locked steel. The symbols reflected off the pools of water underneath. I reached out my hand. My nails were but an inch away.

That's when I realised.

I inclined my head to the side and dropped my arm. The symbol in the reflection. I knew it. I remembered it from when I was but a young girl and also during my stay in the Arcane University. A shape with many cross-ridges, diagonal and vertical lines all pointed to the center of an eye. In Cyrodiil, it was a symbol crafted into stone to signify someone. It was someone of power, if I remembered correctly. The name was on the tip of my tongue. I was sure it was...

The door handle dropped. Worried, I jumped back and hid behind one of the support beams. Footsteps echoed from the stairway. Hesitantly, I lowered myself to the ground.

"Tolfdir? What are you doing down here?" asked a man.

The master wizard halted by the stairway. His blank expression turned into a frown. "I could ask you the same question, Archmage."

The Archmage did not move. "It was nothing," he replied. "I simply came down here for a stroll."

"A stroll? In the middle of the night in here of all places? I may be old, but I'm not foolish," Tolfdir said and took a step forward. "You were talking to him, weren't you?"

The Archmage nodded. "That I was, old friend."

"May I inquire what it was about?"

There was hesitance in the Archmage's voice. His mouth opened but it took a while for him to form the words. "I asked if the threat was still here, if maybe the Psijics didn't stop our problem, merely delayed it."

"Our problem?" Tolfdir asked.

"You know what I mean. I'm sent out to take care of these... these magical tears in our world, and yet they crop back up every month or so and now for no apparent reason they've stopped. You haven't heard of one in months. That cannot be a coincidence."

"Maybe the Psijics found a way to prevent them from happening?" Tolfdir suggested. "Maybe it was only a matter of time before they faded from our realm on their own."

The Archmage shook his head. "I know something's wrong. That's why I asked for his help."

"And what did he say?"

"He said that the seas of change are inevitable. That what began here three years ago has not ended and that no matter what we do, our perseverance will only lead us to disappointment."

"Yes, that does sound like something he would say," the master wizard muttered with his arms crossed and finger on his bottom lip.

"What do you propose we do?"

"I'm saddened to say that if there is a problem, then there isn't much we can do. It's with the Psijics now and we have no way to contact them."

The Archmage frowned. "So, we let what will happen just... happen?"

"You're not the warrior you once were, Drarayne. We can no longer interfere."

"Easier said than done, old friend," the Archmage sighed and pressed his hand to the bridge of his nose. After a long moment he looked up and motioned to the stairway. "I tire of being down here. It will be dawn soon enough."

"That it will," Tolfdir agreed. "And I have someone I would like you to meet."

As the two mages left, I couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. Knowing it was not any of my concern, I turned back to the steel doorway. The Archmage talked as if there was someone in there. Curiously, I pressed down on the door handle and pushed. It didn't move.

I should have known.


	4. Tomes and Spells

Chapter IIII: Tomes and Spells

"For the last time, we don't have that book here. Go bother someone else," the stubborn orc behind the desk groaned. His hand held the bridge of his nose so firmly that the skin around had almost turned white.

I shook my head. "If you could at least look-"

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warned.

I narrowed my eyes and took the books he had managed to find. "By the divines- you know what, fine. I guess I'll have to make do without it."

"Sure, good luck with that. Now please leave the Arcanaeum before I have you thrown out by a group of angry Atronachs."

"Like that scares me," I muttered under my breath and headed back towards the stairway.

The orc huffed but did little else.

The books moved with every step. It became more and more difficult to keep them steady. I heard what sounded like footsteps half-way down the stairway and it was only when I inclined my head that I recognised who it was.

"Master, do you think you could take this before I drop them and get into more trouble with that damned orc over there?" I asked far too quickly.

Before he could reply, I shoved three of the books into his arms. He caught them, albeit unsteadily and leaned back against the wall.

"Making friends I see," he said.

"You have no idea."

He tilted his head to get a better look at the books. "What are all these tomes for anyway?"

"I'm trying to learn more about destruction magic. I still need to perfect a few spells."

"Your ice cloak spell still does not work as it is supposed to?"

I bit my lip. "That depends on what you mean by supposed to. Well, no matter. If you would just help me bring those back to my dormitory I'm sure I can find where I went wrong."

As my foot touched the stairway, Master Eloroth grabbed my shoulder and tugged me back. "Not so fast. I was actually looking for you. The Archmage wishes to see us."

"The Archmage?" I whispered. I could still remember his voice from a few nights ago. I wished to forget what I had seen in the underground tunnels, not be reminded of it.

"Yes," my master replied. "He asked for us personally. It seems my hard work has paid off. Let us go. It would not be in our best interest to keep him waiting."

"Wait, this study is very important. I don't have time-"

"You are coming whether you wish to or not. This is important. Now, get to it."

Reluctant, I did as he said, though it wasn't like I had much choice. My hands shook slightly and tried to hide it by clutching my tomes tighter. I sincerely hoped neither the Archmage nor Tolfdir saw me that night or else both Master Eloroth and I were in trouble. In fact, we would most likely be exiled from the College before either of us could say 'we didn't do it.'

A light blue glow covered the lower half of the walls in the tower, cast from the balls of magic that floated in the air. The magic stayed by the half-decayed tree, leant over on one side with auburn leaves hung over the trunk, almost like it was weeping. The bough split off into thin branches that connected to the other strange plants within the small garden, just in the center of the Archmage's quarters. The furniture, like his bed and wardrobe were hidden behind arched walls, but there was a desk and chair near the entrance that looked like they had been recently used.

"Impressive," my master said.

I nodded. It was. I could feel the light hum of magic, even within the tower itself. It had a strange calmness to it that only mages could sense.

"Ah, you must be Eloroth."

My master and I jumped back at the sound of the voice, though he composed himself much better than I did. Master Eloroth straightened the hem of his robes and cuffs before he gave a broad smile. "That I am."

To my surprise, the Archmage was a Dunmer. Honestly, I expected an Altmer or even a Nord since we were in their homeland. I did hear that the last Archmage was a Dunmer as well. Perhaps it was a common race for the position.

"This," Master Eloroth gestured to me," is Taarie. My first and most successful apprentice."

The dark haired Dunmer gave a short nod and a warm smile spread across his face. "It is good to finally meet you both. Forgive me. I wasn't able to meet you earlier. Something came up. You must understand, of course."

"It happens to the best of us, Archmage" my master reassured.

I rolled my eyes. It happened to him more than anyone else.

"As I can tell by your apprentice's expression," the Archmage chuckled. "But there's no need to call me by my title. Simply Drarayne will be fine."

"I heard that you've been the Archmage for quite some time," I began, which earned an interested and hesitant glance from Master Eloroth. "I hope you don't mind me asking but what happened to the previous one?"

The Archmage sighed. "A few years back Savros Aren regretfully past away. It was... a poor time for us all."

"What happened? We heard that some sort of magic was let loose, but we never heard why or what caused it."

"I'd rather not talk about it. Just know that what happened here will never happen again. I assure you." His fingers twitched and gaze remained heavily on us. He was lying. I was sure of it.

"So, tell me more about the college, Drarayne. I have heard few stories, like the Great Collapse, but not in detail. Perhaps you could also tell me about the ruins nearby?" Master Eloroth suggested in the hope that he could change the topic of conversation.

"May I put these books down then? They're a little heavy," I interrupted.

The Archmage nodded and gestured to the bookshelf and desk not too far away.

As the books landed on the desk with a heavy thud, I couldn't help but take a closer look at the bookcase. Master Eloroth could talk for hours if he wanted to, so their conversation wouldn't end for quite some time.

My finger gently traced the outline of the spines. Each book was covered in either a fine layer of dust or cobwebs that were, strangely, still occupied.

_Provinces of Tamriel, Spirit of the Daedra, Dwemer History and Culture..._

I stopped. _The Imperial Report on Saarthal?_ _Spirit of Magnus?_ Next to those books was what looked like a journal. All three seemed to have purposely been put together for some reason.

Both mer had their backs to me. They seemed to be observing the architecture of the walls, though I really had no idea why.

The cover of the Spirit of Magnus tome had the same symbol I saw in the underground tunnel and the stone emblem back in Cyrodiil. It couldn't have been a coincidence. Between the strange sites I saw a few nights back, the reluctance of the Archmage with information and the fact that he was there during the night with Tolfdir talking about some form of catastrophe, must have meant that they all were somehow related.

_It had to mean something._

Two of the books managed to fit into my satchel while the journal was placed underneath my other tomes. Without the Archmage's attention, I leaned over and added some of the white soul gems too. He would never know they were missing.

"Master, I need to go back to study. I will see you both soon. Farewell Archmage, master," I said before quickly hurrying down the stairway and into the Hall of the Elements.

I could vaguely hear Master Eloroth shout my name, but the door had shut before I could hear the rest.


	5. Nordic Ruins

Chapter V: Nordic Ruins

I traced each word of the Imperial Report on Saarthal with my index finger. As I read from one paragraph to another, I came to the conclusion that I couldn't quite understand why the humans would venture around the burial tomb to begin with. As always, the thoughts and imaginings of men were a mystery that I would never be able to solve, even in my hundred and fifty years of life.

_"Let it be known that the esteemed archaeologist has chosen to focus his boundless talents on the cooking and baking habits of early First Era Nords. While this work will no doubt bring great glory and benefit to the Empire, it is clear that my limited expertise is of no use to this effort._  
_I have instead been using my considerable free time to investigate a particular avenue of study, namely that of the Fall of Saarthal. Every child of the Empire knows what happened here; that the first city of Man on Tamriel was sacked by the elves, jealous and fearful of the threat men posed to them. Relations have obviously improved considerably since then, but to be able to see the results of the destruction first-hand, it is quite striking to note the degree of effort that went into the venture._

_The first task before me was differentiating between areas of original architecture and those that were rebuilt after Ysgramor retook the city with his five hundred companions. Initially relying heavily on the expertise of archaeologist Floronius, my ability to discern the difference for myself improved over time. Indeed, I was surprised to find that many areas of the city, far more than I would have believed, retained much of the original stonework. Work was clearly done to remedy the effects of the city being burned after the elves' assault, but I suspect they underestimated the durability of Nordic craftsmanship._

_Or rather, that is what I initially thought. Perhaps it was a mistaken sense of pride in the accomplishments of these early men, or perhaps it was just my inexperience that led me to this conclusion. Something was amiss, though. Repeated attempts to consult the exceedingly perceptive archaeologist were unfruitful, often digressing into lectures on the bathing habits of Saarthal residents, or the average number of potted plants in homes. I was again forced to rely on my limited powers of observation and deduction._

_And so I have no conclusive results to report at this time. I can say with certainty that the initial attack on Saarthal seems to have been very focused, and does not appear to correlate to any locations that have been established as points of defense or importance. While the eminent scholar Sentius has yet to examine my findings, or indeed show any interest in them, my inclination is to suggest that not only did the elves know the apparent layout of the city, but that their assault was based on a specific directive and perhaps a singular goal._

_My humble investigations shall continue as time permits."_

The findings of Saarthal a year later were recorded by the current Archmage, though even in the journal there was a lack of description entailing what it was he actually found.

I placed the tome down and flipped through the pages of the journal.

_"Page fifty three._

_Fourth Era ~ two hundred and three, seventh of Morning Star._

_Saarthal. I have been on many adventures since my arrival in this foreign land, but that is a place where my life as a mage truly began. Merely coincidental, or perhaps fate to a degree, but it is what happened in that place that truly changed my perspective on life and who I was to become. Though, sometimes I wish I had never gone there._

_That blasted eye. So many good people died because of that damned Thalmor... and ashamedly me, and now, even when it is far from Nirn's reach I can still see the pull it has on Skyrim and Tamriel. The tears have gotten worse. More anomalies, changing from the Reach to the Pale, from Winterhold to Falkreath and all the areas in between. People have been found dead where the tears have formed in their homes. I don't even think the Psijics know the true extent of what's happening here. They caused a temporary solution that has now exceeded its boundaries._

_I thought I'd left this life behind me. It has been two years since I last had an adventure and I truly do not wish for another. All I ever wanted was a quiet life and a family to call my own, but it was during those two years that I realised that my kind, those people call hero's, are simply not brought into this world for such a gift. Perhaps, being the last of my kind as well as such a person is more of a curse then others may imagine._

_By Azura, it seems that I will have no choice but to see things through and try to help the College in any way that I can. Divines, I hope this crisis will pass._

_~ Drarayne."_

Both books included a place called Saarthal and the Archmage seemed to hold a degree of guilt when it came to its mention. It seemed that whatever crisis he spoke of had originated from there. In addition, the mention of an "eye" was unusual and could be used to describe the symbol that I kept seeing. Perhaps the two were related somehow.

"Taarie? Are you alright?" Brelyna asked softly.

With a brief sigh, I slowly closed the journal and placed it on top of the pile of tomes by my desk. "Yes. It's the study I'm doing. It's quite exhausting."

"As I can imagine. You haven't slept in two days and rarely leave those tomes anywhere." As one of the tomes caught her interest, Brelyna inclined her head and took a step forward. "What are you studying that could possibly take up so much of your time?"

I quickly stood and blocked her view.

"My ice cloak spell," I lied. "But I do not see how that is any of your concern."

She frowned. "I was only wondering. Some of us worry you know."

"I-" I let out another sigh. "You're right. I haven't acted like myself recently. There is just something my master told me about this place that he wants me to see. The only problem is that I have no clue where it is."

"That's right. You haven't seen much of Skyrim," Brelyna reminded herself. "Well, maybe I've heard of it. What's the name?"

"It's a place called Saarthal," I replied and watched as the curve of her lips dropped almost instantly.

"Saarthal?" she echoed in surprise. "Why would your master want you to go there of all places?"

"He said it was a good place to get an idea of what early Nordic architecture was like. I need to go there for... another study I have."

"Well, if it's that important-"

"It is. I just need to find a way to get there."

"I wouldn't go there if I was you," Onmund interrupted from his chambers. "I had enough the first time we went there. I still have nightmares and I still can't wrap my head around the fact that the College was allowed to excavate there."

"It is a place for Nord dead, if I am not mistaken," I said. "Would you not want to know about your ancestors and their tales?"

"No," Ondmund answered firmly. "My ancestors should be left to rest in peace."

I raised an eyebrow and turned my attention back to Brelyna.

The Dunmer gave a small smile and folded her arms. "You know, Saarthal isn't too far from the College. If it's really that important, I could take you there, if you'd like."

My ears caught the sound of shuffling feet. Onmund had left his seat and had moved closer to us with his brows drawn into a deep frown. "You have got to be kidding. You're really going to go back? After everything that happened there?"

"She needs our help Onmund," Brelyna argued. "Besides, it isn't like it's still dangerous. The place was cleared by Tolfdir and the other masters after the disaster."

"I... suppose you have a point," Onmund sighed. "But going back really isn't going to solve anything."

"So, you will show me this place?" I quickly asked before the argument got worse.

"Yes," was Brelyna's answer.

"If she goes, then I might as well too," Onmund decided after a small pause. "It wouldn't be right to let you both go alone."

I smiled for a brief moment before it faded. Oddly, there was a fur covered form by the doorway that flicked and twitched from one side to another. It was darkly coloured with several white and brown patches. J'zargo.

Onmund and Brelyna followed my gaze to the Khajiit and Onmund was the first to speak. "J'zargo, we know you're there."

The Khajiit's tail stiffened and he hesitantly poked his head around the corner. His fingers curled around the stone wall and a wary grin spread across his face.

"J'zargo couldn't help but overhear Taarie's dilemma," he said. "Perhaps J'zargo could, as you say, tag along, for a time of course."

"And what benefit would you gain from going to a ruin?" I asked.

A hand pressed against the higher part of his chest, where his heart was. "Simply to help protect J'zargo's fellow mages, of course, and while he is there, J'zargo is sure no one will mind him looking for a few items that may make him a better mage."

I shook my head. "So... not purely for selfish reasons?"

His heart-placed hand tightened into a fist and his eyes widened in mock disbelief. "J'zargo is offended that a mage would judge him so harshly. If you do not wish for J'zargo's help, then he will not join you."

"If that is what you wish, but you will be missing out on the valuable treasures that may lie inside the crypts," I said.

The Khajiit sprang from his place like he was struck by cold water. The idea of his fellow mages collecting his treasures mustn't have been something he liked the sound of. "After a moment of consideration, J'zargo has decided to offer you his aid once more. For it would not be polite for J'zargo to allow his fellow mages to go to Saarthal without him. You mages need the best, am I correct?"

Onmund shook his head. "That's what I said."

"Is it? For J'zargo was not here to hear you."

"You were outside Taarie's room the whole time. How could you have not heard me?"

J'zargo's mouth dropped and he turned his back to him. "J'zargo has no idea what you are talking about. He is done talking to the accusing Nord."

With a roll of my eyes, I leaned back against my bed. If those two were going to act like that on the journey, perhaps it was best to not take them with Brelyna and I. Though, their skills in magic would prove useful.

"The more the merrier, I suppose," I whispered and closed my eyes.


	6. Saarthal

Chapter VI: Saarthal

Saarthal was a place full of history. The many stone walls and passages were filled with ancient Nordic carvings. A stone face, human with blank eyes and a thick beard was carved into several of the pillars and pedestals. Spiralled symbols scattered his forehead and brows, and he was posed in such a way that it projected pride and honour, like he was some form of God or heroic figure.

Dust rose from the ground in a mist-like form that almost devoured out feet and eerie howls echoed throughout the long tunnels. It seemed that we were not alone. Spirits remained with us, but their voices were incomprehensible to the living and so were little more than murmurings that sent shivers through bones and left an inescapable chill in the air. Their frustration could be vaguely seen through the swift slash of the candles' flame within their lanterns and the low rumble through the ground.

As we delved deeper into the crypt, our steps repeatedly cracked the wooden bridge. We passed the lighted areas were darkness barely whistled through the smallest of cracks and water dripped from stone points that created icy pools beneath our feet. Every once in a while, my ears caught the sound of quick, staccato taps far below us, but when I gained the courage to peer down, there was nothing. I could see why my fellow mages were hesitant to come with me.

"J'zargo does not like this place," the Khajiit murmured.

"Neither do I," I replied in barely a whisper. "It seems almost wrong to be here."

"Now you know why I was against this," said Onmund. "This is a place for the dead. We shouldn't be here disturbing them."

"I'm sure we have been here long enough," Brelyna agreed. "Surely there is enough here to help you with your study."

I shook my head. "Not yet. There is more I wish to see."

Onmund frowned. "More? Haven't you seen enough?"

"J'zargo still does not see anything that is worth anything to him," J'zargo intervened. "He begins to wonder if this was a waste of time."

I halted in my stride and swiftly turned to face the group of mages. "You know, you don't have to come with me. I thank you for coming this far, but I'm sure I can make it on my own. Go if you must, but I'm staying."

The group, with raised eyebrows, exchanged glances. J'zargo seemed ready to leave, but Brelyna and Onmund did not.

"Now wait we can't just leave you here. I can't believe I'm saying this but maybe another hour couldn't hurt," Onmund finally decided. "Besides, it might be better if we stayed away from the College anyway. Enthir isn't too pleased with me right now."

I cocked my head to the side. "Enthir? The Bosmer sorcerer?"

"Yeah. I traded him a spell tome I wasn't going to use, but it turned out to be worthless. He isn't too happy with me right now."

"Onmund!" Brelyna snapped. "I thought you learned your lesson when dealing with him. Remember what happened to your family's amulet?"

"Hey, the tome was worthless. Besides, I did learn my lesson."

"Perhaps we should continue walking?" I suggested.

"Yes, you're right, sorry," Onmund replied.

As we neared the remnants of an archway, I couldn't help but notice that other passages were guarded by stone that was jagged and uneven and arranged in such a way that it would have been difficult for trespassers to find. The archway led into a larger area, shaped as a dome with an ovoid-shaped ceiling that's walls arched several feet above our heads. Attached to the walls were darker stone, almost coal in colour, with cracks and deep groves in the frames. They were graves.

"Is this where they buried their dead?" I wondered.

An iron grid lay in the centre of the tomb and was surrounded by small candles. I carefully walked over the stone bridge and took a glance down. There were more graves down there. The sarcophaguses scattered the underground, but all pointed towards the surface.

"This must be where Drarayne and master Tolfdir came," Brelyna said with her red eyes wide in surprise. "I never thought that it'd be like this, though."

"We should turn back," Onmund warned. "This place is off limits. The Archmage and Tolfdir said it themselves."

"Why?" I asked. "It's only a tomb. It is not like the bodies can come back from to life."

Onmund's face fell. His jaw dropped in shock. "You do know about Draugr, right?"

I frowned. "What is that?"

J'zargo knelt beside one of the corpses. His lips drew back in a grimace. "These are Draugr."

I grimaced too. "Is that... or maybe was that a Nord?"

J'zargo nodded. "Yes, though it was not so dead before. They roam Nordic tombs like this and can be quite difficult to kill."

"I've heard about these back in Summerset," I said as I knelt down beside the Khajiit. "I heard of the occasional necromancer near where I was taught. Stories of them spread across the Mages Guild like wildfire. They're rare you see. The Thalmor would never allow such magic to happen. Still, to see this is quite intriguing. I wonder if I'll be able to see a Draugr that isn't as dead as this one."

Onmund raised an eyebrow. "You sounded a lot like Master Eloroth just then. That's quite creepy."

"I guess I've spent too much time with the old mer," I sighed and stood. "Shall we continue?"

I did not wait for an answer.

It was passage after passage. All were long, but the further we ventured, the more the Nord's culture and language were apparent in their structures. Many of the bodies; some mummified and others left for spiders to claim as their own, were no longer placed in sarcophaguses but instead left to lie in the walls. Gauzy, translucent and dust clumped webbing clung to the sharp corners like a lifeline and on occasion had fine strings that caught the slight movement in the air and drifted. The webbing grew thicker as time passed with more and larger prey snatched within the delicate traps.

"I hate spiders," I muttered. It wasn't the way they worked or how large they got but their skinny legs and beady eyes. What was worse were Skeevers and it wasn't long before I found one strung up on a tether by its tail. How the Aedra loved to torment me.

"What's that over there?" Brelyna asked.

"I'm not sure," I replied.

Near the end of the path was a ray of light. It was light blue in colour and casted shadows upon the ground. As we moved through the doorway, we were met with a vast hall, so tall that the walls towered into a place lost in darkness. The wooden beams' ending also was hidden amongst the black but giant stalactites appeared out of the corners.

"By the Twin Moons!" J'zargo whispered in awe. "The old Nords sure did love their stonework."

"Shor's blood, this was here this whole time?" Onmund exclaimed.

Brelyna nodded. "It appears so. But, why would the Archmage and Tolfdir hide this from us?"

"After what happened to the College, I don't blame them," Onmund sighed. "Maybe this was where they found the Eye."

That got my attention. "The Eye?"

Onmund halted mid-stride. "Yes, the uh Eye of uh," he paused. "You know what, never mind."

I frowned. They knew something.

Slowly, we wandered down one of the two wooden stairways. A throne was placed opposite a large table with lizard-shaped sculptures on either edge. Urns and linen wraps laid on top and it made me wonder if that was where the old Nords wrapped their dead.

"What is that?" I overheard Onmund say, but it was only when I turned that I realised what he meant.

It looked like a shrine. Candles lined the circular platform that seemed to have risen from the ground itself. It curved outward and was surrounded by four large columns. What was strange, however, was that it was the source of the blue glow. The symbols engraved into the ground were not **N**ordic. They were written in curved lines that began and ended in different places. Though, when I blinked, I noticed that the symbols had changed into another form. It was very odd.

"Onmund, what can you see from up there?" I asked as I knelt in the centre of the platform. My fingers ghosted the strange carvings.

Onmund cupped his hands together over his brows to get a better look. "It kind of looks like a star, or something. It almost looks like it's... moving."

So I wasn't the only one who noticed that.

"I'm getting a bad feeling about this. We should go. We're not supposed to be here."

Brelyna looked away from the throne and crossed her arms. "We're already here, Onmund. We might as well have a look around."

"Exactly," J'zargo added. "There is no need to rush."

"Why doesn't anyone listen to me?" he sighed.

"I wonder how long this place has been here," Brelyna said. Her hand swept over the encryption on the wall. "There's mention of your ancestors here, Onmund and of Ysgramor and his sons."

"Really?" Onmund's voice rose in interest.

As the two continued their conversation, I took out a tome from my satchel and placed it near the largest symbol. The shape was of an eye, but was so complicated with the vertical and curved lines that it would have been difficult to identify if I did not know what to look for.

My fingers fumbled through the many pages of the book called "Spirit of Magnus" and stopped within the sixtieth page. I turned the book so that it was placed next to the eye symbol and smiled. The sketch of what the writer presumed Magnus would have looked like held the same symbol on the side of his cowl and on the staff held in the mage's hand. Though the man was cloaked and only his hands and lower face were visible, the eye symbol was as clear as day. It was a perfect match.

_Incredible, _I thought.

"Taarie, did you find anything?" Brelyna asked, but I was too interested in the symbol to notice.

At the bottom of the sketch was the writer's note. It read: _"Though I have spent much of my life trying to uncover the mysteries that are Magnus and have, regrettably, never been found, such as his legendary staff, one thing has been found time and time again through the Nordic burial grounds and lost catacombs. A language, or perhaps a phrase, but I have always wondered what it could've meant. Now, as I reach my seventieth year, I believe it has a direct link to Magnus, or perhaps was written by the God himself. I believe it has some form of meaning, but none of the scholars I have been fortunate to meet have any opinion on it. They believe it is a joke, a lost cause. Something someone scribbled into the wall for laughs. I cannot blame them, but I know it has a meaning. It has to."_

As I glanced back and forth between both the book and the ground, I began to realise that the phrase was in the same sort of language as the symbols. With my index finger, I traced the phrase that was written in the book onto the dust-covered ground.

"Taarie?" asked Brelyna again but I did not listen. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know," Onmund replied.

"Leave the elf to her thoughts," J'zargo interrupted. "There is no rush. Besides, J'zargo is not yet ready to leave this place."

Onmund leaned back. "Have you found anything?"

"Only several healing potions, but J'zargo knows he is close to treasure. He can smell it in the air."

"You must have a better nose than I do," Onmund groaned. "This place smells of rotten eggs. No, actually it's worse. Much worse."

The symbols I wrote began to glow in the same colour as the platform, only brighter. It hummed a strange, low tune that somehow ceased all thought and became the only sound I could hear. The eye symbol also began to shine. The glow was mesmerising. My sight blurred around the edges and the shades of blue meshed into an almost blinding white, but then the eye symbol darkened, so much that it was almost like an endless void. Strands of hair lashed back as a gust of wind hit my face, but I did not care. I allowed whatever force that controlled me to guide my hand to the eye. I felt no worry and yet I did not seem to realise what was happening. I could see the light spiral around my fingers and then the palm in a strange dance, like birds glide around each other in the month of First Seed. It was not long before my whole hand was enveloped in it and a sharp burn carved its way through the skin.

"Taarie? Taarie! We need to help her!" I could vaguely hear Brelyna yell, but her voice, along with the others, soon faded.

Daggers. That was what the pain reminded me of. It was as if a sharp blade dug deeper and deeper into the flesh. I wanted to scream, but my throat would not allow it. It was shut tightly. My jaw would not move on command, neither would my tongue. I was frozen in place and all I could do was watch. No crimson seeped through the wound, nor did the flesh seem to have been damaged or swollen. When the pain subsided, all that was left was the eye symbol, but that too faded into the skin and then disappeared, as if none of what I had experienced actually happened. My sight turned to black and my limbs went numb.

The ground hammered with the drum of heavy footsteps. Dirt hit my bare arms as someone collided to a halt and applied pressure to both of my shoulders.

"Taarie? By Azura, what happened to her?"

"I don't know, Brelyna," I heard Onmund say. He sounded like he was in shock.

Warmth coursed through my bones and made it easier for me to move. As my eyes flickered, I caught the gaze of Brelyna with her arm stretched out and with a spell half-cast inside her closed fist. J'zargo and Onmund appeared behind her shoulder and all three mages had wide eyes and worried expressions.

I groaned as I tried to sit up. My head ached. I collapsed back onto my shoulder. "What happened? Why are you all around me?"

The tenseness in Brelyna's shoulders eased and she helped me stand. "You don't know what just happened?"

"I..." I looked down at my right arm. There was no marking on it, no scar and no bruising. Only dust. "I don't really know."

"You weere screaming for some reason, yet why J'zargo does not know," J'zargo explained.

"I screamed?" I echoed.

J'zargo nodded.

"Why? Did you all not see what I saw?"

Brelyna's hold around my shoulder tightened. "See what? J'zargo's right. You screamed and thrashed about on the floor like you were being attacked."

"It was quite scary, really," Onmund added.

"That can't be true," I said, but the look on their faces told me otherwise. "But I-"

It wasn't possible. What I saw must have been real, unless it was some sort of hallucination. But, even then the feeling and the pain was too strong to not be real.

"Perhaps we should take you back to the College," Brelyna suggested. "Maybe Colette can have a look at you. You might be ill."

"I'm fine," I sighed. "I'm just... tired."

"I'm not surprised. You haven't slept for quite a while."

"Let's just get back to the College," Onmund said. "I really don't want to stay here a moment longer."

"But J'zargo has yet to find his treasure," J'zargo interrupted with an outstretched claw. "Maybe we could stay a while longer?"

Onmund sighed. "No way. I've had enough madness for one day. You can stay if you want, but we're going."

J'zargo's eyes narrowed and lip curled into a scowl. "Fine, but if J'zargo misses any treasure here and it lands in the hands of another, he will know who to blame."


	7. Restoration

Chapter VII: Restoration

"From what I can tell, there's nothing wrong with her," the Restoration master, Colette Marence said. She was small, as most Bretons were, especially to my kind, and when I left my bed she was only as tall as my shoulder.

Master Eloroth leaned back against the desk with the tips of his beard between his fingers. "Nonsense. Something must be wrong. Move out of the way. I'm sure I can find out what."

"Excuse me?" Colette exclaimed. Her brown eyes raised and mouth went slack. The many wrinkles and crows feet that, upon first meet, more than doubled her age, scrunched as her eyes narrowed at Master Eloroth's movements.

"You're excused," my master said before he touched my forehead and muttered an incomprehensible incantation. "Now I'm sure my diagnosis will be more accurate-"

Colette grabbed Master Eloroth by the arm and held her free hand up to silence him. "What are you suggesting? That Restoration isn't a valid school of magic? That any mage, no matter what their field, can learn this subject? That I, one who has spent decades researching and learning the ways of Restoration is no better than you?"

Master Eloroth stifled a snort and shrugged out of her grasp. "Please, do not make me laugh. Restoration is barely a school of magic. Any mage can learn a simple healing spell. It's barely worth the time for study. Now, if I may get back to my work-"

I pursed my lips. "Master-"

"Not now, Taarie," he dismissed with a raised hand. "Can you not see that I am in the middle of something here? I need concentration. The mutterings of this mad woman will not help me."

"Mad woman?" Corlette's sharp intake of breath whistled through the halls. "Let me tell you something. Restoration is a perfectly valid school of magic and is more useful than anything you will ever know. And to think that I thought a spellcaster such as yourself would know the benefits of such." Her index finger flew up in the air and was waved from side to side. "Did my collegues put you up to this? They did, didn't they? They told you to come here and disgrace my life's work! Well, I'll tell you something mister. I am no fool. Restoration magic is just as good as any other type of magic. Better, in fact. It's not just healing cuts and bruises you know. The undead are a dangerous threat and Restoration magic keeps them at bay. The next time you find yourself in a crypt, don't ask for my help, because I will not give it to you!"

Master Eloroth's mouth dropped in disbelief. His breathing had faltered and his fingers curled into his palm. He had never been spoken to like that before and honestly, I didn't think he knew how to react.

"It is like I said, masters," I intervened after a moment long silence. The tention between the two of them was so thick that it could have been cut through with a dagger. "I am feeling well, so perhaps it is best for Corlette to go?"

"Y... yes, of course," Master Eloroth replied. He straightened the cuffs on his robe and glared down at the Breton woman. "Do try to not hit the door-" he glanced back and remembered that the chambers didn't have one. "I mean trip on your way out."

Corlette's jaw was tense, but she managed to calm the shaking in her hands. "Of course my dearest Eloroth. But mind my words. I will find out who told you about my research and I will put a stop to it. All these rumours and insulting notes left in my personel effects are simply barbaric. I will not stand for it."

As her form disappeared around the corner, Master Eloroth turned to me with an expression that was rare for him. In fact, I didn't think that I had ever seen such a bewildered face in all the decades that I had known him.

"That woman is mad," he said. "Simply mad. How this College allowed such a person to teach here is a mystery."

I gave a small smile. "I suppose so."

After a heavy breath, he looked back and pursed his lips. "Something is wrong, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"What where you doing in such a ruin to begin with?"

"It was simple curiosity," I said. "Nothing more I can assure you."

Master Eloroth took his place by my side and I could feel the strength of his glare from under my brown hair. "I've known you long enough to know when you are lying. I will not ask again."

"Neither will I answer."

"Why you stubborn- gah, sometimes I wonder why I bother," he said and swiftly stood. "You have not been acting yourself, Taarie, and don't act as if I haven't noticed."

"Master-"

"Ah, no. Unlike that Breton woman you are going to listen." His hands roamed over the many tomes on my desk until he came across a few that caught his interest. As they were tilted, the covers were shown and it wasn't long before I realised which ones he had picked.

"Err, maybe you should put those away," I slowly suggested. "They're very delicate and Urag would dislike me even more if they were returned damaged."

He raised an eyebrow. "I have spent quite a while in the Arcaneum and have never come across these books."

"Maybe you weren't looking carefully."

"Oh? And why would you need to study a report on the Saarthal ruin, or about the Aedra Magnus?"

"I was simply looking up Winterhold's history," I lied. "Battles were fought in that tomb, with our ancestors. How could I pass up a chance to see such a place?"

"Hmm. It seems that my wisdom has finally done you some good," my master smirked. "However, this-" he motioned to the journal, "is not yours, is it?"

"No, no it's not." I reached out for it, but Master Eloroth slipped it out from my grasp. "I found it. It belongs to the Archmage. I was going to return it to him."

"Then perhaps it would be better if I return it," he suggested. "I have to speak to him on other matters anyway."

"No, master that's not necessary-"

"Then why do you keep lying to me?"

I frowned. "I'm not lying. Just trust me on this. I need those tomes."

A knock from the archway halted our conversation.

"I hope we're not disturbing anything," Tolfdir said. There was a smile on his face. "It's good to see that you're back on your feet, Taarie."

"Master Tolfdir," I greeted with a short bow. "I am fine, thank you."

Behind him was the Archmage who also smiled, but his was less cheerful and more forced.

"That is wonderful to hear," Tolfdir replied.

"Indeed," the Archmage agreed.

"Yes, well, though I am pleased to see you all, I feel quite tired so maybe if I could have my tomes back-" I reached out, but Master Eloroth insisted on keeping the Aedra damned journal.

"There's actually something we need to talk about," the Archmage began.

My blood ran cold. "There is?"

"Yes. I've spoken to J'zargo, Brelyna and Onmund about what happened and where you all went."

"And?"

"Well, they know Saarthal is off limits and yet they went with you anyway. They say it was for some sort of study?"

I nodded. "Master Eloroth wanted me to see the Nordic ruins, didn't you master?"

Master Eloroth's wrinkles on his forehead became more pronounced. He glanced from the Archmage to me before he spoke. "It was an oppertunity Taarie could not pass, Drararyne. She's always been so fascinated with the culture and when I learned that there was a ruin near here, I couldn't help but send her there. Though, I myself, was never told of its boundaries."

"I knew I forgot to mention something," Tolfdir muttered. "Though that does sound about right. Anyway, no matter. It seems that no one was severly harmed in any way, so I suggest that we forget that this ever happened."

"Forget? Tolfdir, there is a rule about that place for a reason," the Archmage argued. "It's a dangerous place for mages, especially apprentices."

I wrinkled my nose. "Apprentices? I'm no apprentice and trust me, I could easily take care of myself."

"I'm not saying that you can't but look at what happened to you."

"Nothing happened! I feel fine. There's nothing wrong with me," I said but the Archmage did not listen.

"That does not change anything. I'm sorry, but for now I'm suspending any leave from the College without authorised access. No apprentice is to go near Saarthal and that's final."

I quickly took a step forward. "Archmage-"

"Drarayne," he corrected.

"Archmage," I said again. "You cannot do that. Not because of me."

"It's too late, Taarie. My mind is set. You and the others are not to leave the compounds of the College until I say otherwise."

"Now I realise what Taarie did was a little... wrong, but this is a bit too far," Master Eloroth intervened.

"You both wanted to be a part of this College, didn't you? That responsibility comes with a price. My mind is set and won't be changed anytime soon," the Archmage decided before he turned on his heel and sauntered out of my quarters.

Tolfdir cupped the edge of his brow in his hand and let out a heavy sigh. "I was afraid this would happen. Forgive him. He's has a lot on his mind lately."

"It's no trouble, Tolfdir," I said.

"That's good to hear," he smiled and glanced back. "I should really see where the Archmage has gotten to, but I will see you soon, Taarie."

As Tolfdir left, master Eloroth kept his gaze fixed on me. After a moment he extended his arm and placed the journal in my lap.

"Whatever you are doing better be worth it, Taarielath," he said. I grimaced at the use of my full name. He only did it when he was disappointed. "Though it pains me that you can not confide in me. I could always help in whatever you are searching for."

"This is none of your concern master, so please leave."

Master Eloroth's eyes widened. "If... that is what you wish."

"It is," I replied.

The room fell silent. Everyone had left the Hall of Attainment. Once the journal was back with the other tomes I pulled my sleeve back to get a better look at my arm. There was no marking there. No imprint. It was as bare as the day before as if nothing at Saarthal had happened.

But it did.

I was sure of it. Everything I experienced, from the flashes of light to the carving of my arm was real. I wasn't sure what it meant, or if it even meant anything. What I did know was that something did happen at Saarthal and that those around the College knew more than they decided to tell.

I just had to discover what that was.


End file.
